The Wrong Weasley
by RawMateriel
Summary: Set in WWI: when her fiancé Ron is called to the trenches, Hermione is left to help run the family business with his Mother and sister. When she's left alone with Ginny, Hermione struggles to hide what she knows in her heart: that she's committed her life to the wrong Weasley. But how can she betray the one man willing to say I do, just to repeat the mistakes of her past?
1. Adjusting

**a/n: I'm just going to post what I have so far to see what people think, and in the hopes that some feedback motivates me to write a little more. Thank you for reading and please enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 1: Adjusting

"Ronald do you really expect me to tolerate her, she is the most foolish type of person. The way she looks at me makes my skin crawl. She can't stand that I'm different from her."

"You two are more alike than the two of us, you're... women, can't you focus on what you have in common?"

Hermione blanched, how could she emphasise the responsibility she had _not_ to notice women, she couldn't trust herself to focus on such a thing as Ginny's soft curves or burning eyes.

"You expect us to sit about speaking about sewing and cooking is that it?"

"You said it." Hermione chose to let this slide, she was getting used to doing so. She knew Ron meant well, and it's not as though she had been a perfect paramour.

"How can I marry you, knowing that it can never simply be me and you? It's me and you and everyone else. I can't stand the rift I've created between you and your family." She told herself again and again that that is what was failing between them, that and nothing else.

"These things take time, don't be silly. Gin will adjust, they all must. Once they see how I love you, I'm hopeful that they will see why." The look in his eyes was soft and weary. They were still new to each other, and he couldn't know how his words failed to reassure her.

Why did he love her? Such an awful wretch that she was. She stepped into his arms.

"How will they see when you're not here? I wish you didn't have to go," she sighed against his lips, passing him his coat. When he took the coat and stepped back he looked surprised, she rarely initiated any physical intimacy between them, but it was easier for her to do so now knowing there was no time for him to press her for more. A simple kiss she could easily afford. He slipped the jacket on and ran a freckled finger over the warm ebony skin of her cheek.

"Take care of them," he pleaded, tugging her into a tight embrace. "And yourself." She wished she could soothe his fears, she felt his heart pound against her own, but he would leave here and face the worst of it alone. This was one more way in which she struggled in her duties as his wife to be, she couldn't help him. Once they were separated he pulled his flat private's hat from it's hook and slipped it over his flaming hair.

"Tell me how you love me," she pleaded, needing this last assurance from him. Who knew when she would see him again.

"Remember that you are to be my wife, and do not doubt me," he instructed her. The warmth he had been rushed with seemed to wane even as he reached the door, and then he was gone, and all his assurances with him. He left with the letter calling him to order in hand, and she wished she could cry when the door shut behind him: but she felt a shameful burst of relief. She refused to doubt he would return to her, but she should've made him promise, at least then her resentment might be justified.

Steeling herself Hermione moved into the public portion of the house. Ronald and his family ran a pub in which they all lived and it was her duty while he was away to help with the upkeep. Now that Ronald, the youngest son had been called to the trenches, that left just her and his sister, Ginevra, working in the front of house. His Mother Molly Weasley remained responsible for the kitchen and rarely emerged, bereft of not only her six sons but also her husband. Mrs. Weasley's face was very round and as red as her hair, she had more clothes then she probably needed since everything she put on was hidden beneath a large patched apron.

Opening the door which separated the living quarters from the back of the bar, Hermione emerged to find Ginny absent. They weren't due to open for another hour, listening intently Hermione heard the voices of Ron's remaining relatives emanating from Mrs. Weasley's overheated kitchen.

"I don't know what you expect me to do, even if I could bring myself to work in the front: the girl can't cook." Mrs. Weasley's voice was immediately recognisable as she spoke to her daughter in an exasperated tone.

"Business isn't exactly booming as it is? Are we really to weather this as well? It's not something I regret to abide personally but the rest of the neighbourhood may not be so forgiving," Ginny pressed, stating her case at this point practically a matter of habit. Still, there was all the more urgency now that the day Hermione was to begin working alongside her had come.

"She's a quiet clever girl Gin, she won't be any hassle. There will be as much to adjust to having the whole place run without any of the… of the boys. If they can come to terms with us than they can adjust to Hermione."

"If I can't raise your concerns for the sake of the business, then consider this from her side. Serving these parochial locals night in and night out could put her at risk. Do you really trust these brutes with Ron's precious fiancé noir?"

"Don't call her that."

"What, would you rather I spoke of her the way the neighbours undoubtedly will once they get a look at her? Particularly that ring on her finger."

"Ginny that's enough."

"You can't be serious. In war time? Because everyone is so friendly on their bloody cider rations." "I said stop it. What would you have me do? You can't run service alone, and we can't afford to feed Hermione and hire on another member of staff. We've put it off as long as we could but the time has come. Tonight she's taking orders. She can manage it, her letters are better than yours to say the least. It's settled, do you understand?"

"I understand that you're determined not to listen!" Ginny snapped, and without giving the nosy Hermione time to look busy, she tugged the kitchen door open with unnecessary force and crashed right into her. Hermione's nose and mouth were overcome with a curtain of floral fiery hair, and she flinched when Ginny's forehead hit hers.

They both took a step back, and Ginny's wide hazel eyes narrowed quickly as she assessed the situation.


	2. Help

**a/n: Thanks for all of your kind words, please note that I'm totally open to suggestions and let me know what you think!**

* * *

Chapter 2: Help

Hermione could tell by her countenance that Ginny would love nothing more than to chastise her for spying, but they both knew that this would give Hermione license to confront the red head about the harsh words that had been overheard. As if realising this at once they both exhaled like a pair of whistling kettles, and the grievance rose up and away between them.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said for good measure. Neither wanted to conduct such an unnecessary conversation with each other, it was their one joint goal to avoid too much interaction. Hermione felt sure that on Ginny's part this was motivated by an overt dislike and probably no small amount of prejudice.

"Forget it," the younger girl advised with her usual authority. Hermione's own feeling were a different matter and, she was sure, far more complicated.

Ginny rubbed the red splodge formed on her forehead over the point of contact between them and scowled anew.

"Ron's gone," Hermione whispered, and tore her eyes away from the mark on the other girls skin, she knew she would have one similar although it would be less visible with her colouring.

"I hope you gave him a decent send off," Ginny replied. Hermione held her tongue with some effort, and Ginny huffed and put on her apron. Without another word Ginny pulled a tray of polished silverware from a lower shelf and began to wrap knives and forks together in soft cloth napkins.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, wondering what she was expected to do. Hesitantly she reached for one of the aprons left on the hook and put it on. She could sense Ginny following her movements in her peripheral vision though she gave no indication of being interested. A flame seemed to emerge in Hermione's breast, there was a desire within her to impress Ginny, perhaps even to prove her wrong.

She could do this, she had been working her whole life and could easily take fast and efficient notes. Hermione's father had died before she had had a chance to remember him and as a result it was just her and her mother, Jean, when she was young. It would've been difficult for Jean to support them both if she hadn't had the good fortune to be hired as a governess to tutor the daughter of a wealthy family in London. They had even agreed to house Hermione under the condition that she work with the staff on the upkeep of the house. As a result of years helping to run such a household and under her mother's tutelage Hermione herself would've made a fine governess, and perhaps even a teacher. She might still be working in London if she hadn't ruined it all, if it weren't for Ron she'd be worse off again. She owed him this.

Quietly Hermione moved to stand beside Ginny and picked up one of the napkins, she reached for a fork and Ginny put her arm out to block her from the tray.

"I can do it," Ginny snapped, reaching with her other hand to take the napkin from Hermione. Feeling stubborn, Hermione held on and Ginny's effort tugged them closer, shoulders pressing against each other.

"I'm just trying to help," Hermione said, she turned to put some space between them but Ginny still faced the counter, neither let go of the cloth.

"If you want to help me: then go upstairs and read one of your books," Ginny said, and with a quick jerk she pulled the napkin from Hermione's hand.

"Ron's gone, that means you'll need my help tonight if you're going to run this place." Hermione crossed her arms. When Ginny turned to face her, she actually looked surprised.

"Aren't you supposed to be clever?" Ginny asked, a wicked smile spreading over her face.

"Clever enough to remember that this was prearranged weeks ago," Hermione replied, suppressing the desire to smile back, knowing better than to take the appearance of Ginny's pretty teeth as a sign of glad tidings.

"For Ron's benefit. Honestly, do you really think that having you serve customers would help any of us? Least of all you?" Ginny asked, shaking her head. Her vibrant hair slipped forward to frame her face and she pushed it behind her ears with freckled fingers.

"Don't condescend to me, I know this isn't what you wanted, but this is how things are now. You're used to working with family, but I'm a fast learner if you'd just forget your prejudice and give me a chance," Hermione said, and Ginny's smile faltered. She glanced behind her at the sound of her mother turning on the oven and ushered Hermione further from the kitchen.

Once they were on the opposite end of the bar Ginny spoke: "You might think that I'm prejudiced, but I'm the only person in this family who is actually thinking of you." Hermione raised an eyebrow, and ignored the anticipation she felt as Ginny leaned close and continued in a hushed tone. "You're not in London anymore, and no one here is going to care that you speak French or play piano. When they look at you they're only going to see one thing, and I'm not sure why you're pretending that that's not true."

"It's very low of you to pretend you've been mistreating me for my sake," Hermione said. One of the few things Hermione found attractive about Ron was how easy it was to make him blush, now Hermione found with little surprise that she found the colour flooding forth up Ginny's neck infinitely more enticing.

"Maybe Ron and Mum can overlook the fact that you haven't stepped foot into the street since the day I picked you up from the train station but I've noticed. Yet you failed to notice that every errand they might have asked you to go on I have completed in your stead." Hermione briefly entertained a notion of staining Ginny's cheeks and neck further with some well chosen words or even kisses. Deepening the soft pink to a burning red.

"You hate me," Hermione said, as if to remind her. Somehow this made Ginny laugh, her eyes creasing invitingly.

"And you accuse me of being too quick to judge?" Distantly they heard the bell tower ringing, alerting the village of Ottery St. Catchpole that it was five o'clock. In a joint motion they looked toward the door. It was later than Hermione had thought. The pub was due to open and after one more stolen glance Ginny regrettably moved away from her to unlock the door.

"You'll still need help," Hermione repeated, and Ginny shrugged.

"You don't believe me?" She asked, pausing with the key in the lock.

"If you run this place wrong you could lose your livelihood," Hermione said, not really in reply but in an attempt to understand.

"You think I'd force us further into poverty for the sake of my pride?" Hermione was confused, usually she just tolerated Ginny's silence or her dismissal, now she was nearly overwhelmed by this wave of honesty, if she dared to believe it. Hermione felt a rush of hope and fear. She wondered at the significance of this change in Ginny coinciding with Ron's departure.

"Of course not," Hermione replied at length.

"Good, you can apologise for underestimating me later, for now just trust me," Ginny said, and without checking to see if Hermione moved out of sight, she turned the key in the lock and pulled down the latch, opening the shutters. Hermione almost tripped in her haste to move out of the bar as the evening light rushed in from outside. The door back into the private quarters closed with an inconspicuous click as she backed into the family room. The moment Hermione had shut herself out of sight she cursed herself.

"You're a fool," she whispered to the empty room. Recounting the conversation in her head she tried to understand how Ginny had managed to get her way, and make it feel as though she were doing Hermione a favour. "That manipulative trull!" Hermione exclaimed, and reached for the handle, prepared to storm back into the bar and complete the shift whether Ginny liked it or not. But then she paused, trying again to find the edges of her confusion.

Ginny had made it seem as though Hermione had somehow failed to notice that she had been making efforts on her part. Hermione couldn't believe that she had failed to notice anything about Ginny. Even though Hermione attempted to frame her comments as defensive when she spoke to Ron, Hermione spoke about Ginny often and since she'd arrived in the village she thought of her even more than she mentioned her.

Hermione should've known the moment she saw Ginny in the train station that she'd made a mistake in coming here. At least when Ron was living with them she had a constant reminder of her duty to him, and of what he had rescued her from. Now with him gone, she felt as though she was doomed to make the same glorious mistakes she'd made in London all over again. Only this time she feared the consequences would be far worse.

In that moment, Hermione would've run away if she'd had anywhere to go. Anywhere where she could be safe from Ginny's watchful hazel eyes.

Hermione gave up on the door and in doing so accepted the possibility that Ginny didn't hate her, and in fact wanted to help her. Accepting this caused the mixture of hope and fear that had forced her to do as Ginny asked to swell in Hermione's chest.

"You're a fool," she whispered again, and hid her face in her hands.


End file.
